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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25774231">Lobelia's Adventure</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueleaf_les/pseuds/blueleaf_les'>blueleaf_les</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bag End, Between The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, Dwarves, Dwarves in the Shire, Gen, Surface Dwarf Culture and Customs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:54:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,874</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25774231</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueleaf_les/pseuds/blueleaf_les</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lobelia be like 'i know a spot' and then drag you down the road for no reason and disappear with no notice.</p><p>Glóin and his wife, Feararin, are celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary by visiting all the friends they've made during their life together. They come to Bag End for Feararin to meet Bilbo, but he is away and they involve in a chat with Lobelia instead. They learn Bilbo's adopted a child, get confused and agree to have tea with her. <br/>Prepare for some sad Lobelia content.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bilbo Baggins &amp; Glóin, Bilbo Baggins &amp; Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, Glóin/Glóin's Wife</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lobelia's Adventure</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemurious/gifts">lemurious</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was written for Lemurious as a prize for guessing a riddle i enclosed in the fanfic written for Tolkien Gen Week (it is called "The Siege of Bag End" and you can read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25104856 )<br/>thank you for your lovely prompt, Lemurious! &lt;3 i really enjoyed writing this one ^^ and thank you again for participating in my game, i am so happy someone wanted to find the answer! <br/>i hope you'll enjoy this &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The Bag End doors were evidently closed, no matter how loud they knocked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Closed’, sighed Glóin, and looked at his wife apologetically. She made a calm expression and stroke her neatly braided beard. She somehow could imagine that Bilbo would be absent on the very day they finally decided to visit him: it sounded just like him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Disappointed’, she said quietly, ‘but not surprised.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glóin scratched his head and looked around. From what Bilbo was once saying about his home he remembered that a befriended family lived nearby. He thought it might be good to ask about Bilbo’s whereabouts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While he was searching for a neighbour’s house, Feararin noticed a lonely figure on the road. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Look, someone’s coming.’ She touched his arm and showed the wanderer to him. They both watched as a hobbit clad in light brown dress climbed the hill, waving a hand in their general direction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Is this Bilbo?’, she whispered, remembering how Balin described the burglar. From such a distance it was hardly to be checked, but at least the brown curly hair fitted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘No, this is definitely not Bilbo’, Glóin whispered back, narrowing his eyes. This hobbit had a completely different stride, different posture and seemed much more energetic. ‘But at least we might ask about him.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both stepped aside from Bag End entrance and went to meet the approaching hobbit, who held the edge of the dress in a firm grasp and reached their level of the road.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Good afternoon!’, the hobbit said readily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Good afternoon’, Feararin answered sedately. ‘Feararin, daughter of Thearniann, at your service.’ She bowed, while Glóin introduced himself in a similar fashion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hobbit seemed a little taken aback, but amused at the same time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, at your service and your family’s!’, she repeated after them, looking at both with great delight as if she wanted to remember everything about their appearance: the careful gender braids ornamented with shining gems, the knitted hoods, light cloaks, stone-decorated leather belts, even the rich saddles of their ponies and the colorful sacks they carried. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Oh, Baggins! What a coincidence! You must be Bilbo’s kin?’, Glóin asked politely (he was told that the hobbits enjoyed genealogy).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘No, he is </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> kin, not the other way round’, explained Lobelia, still gazing at every detail they possessed as if they were the world’s greatest wonder. ‘Have you come to see him? He’s away. No knowing when he might be back. May I offer you some tea and biscuits, please? I don’t live very far away, and with your ponies it will take next to no time!’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘We’ll be honoured’, said Feararin. Lobelia made quite a nice impression on her - she seemed agreeable and smart. If she was Bilbo’s kin, it would be at least impolite not to accept her invitation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Yes, thank you, you are indeed very hospitable’, added Glóin. He had an uneasy feeling that something was not right, but he didn’t want to show that. ‘We would also be very grateful for any news about Bilbo. Where might he have gone to?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘It would be funny if he decided to visit Erebor in the same time we finally made it to visit him’, Feararin laughed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘You must be exhausted after such a long journey!’, Lobelia exclaimed. Her eyes shone with curiosity. Glóin thought she was eager to jump on the pony’s saddle and charge. Instead, she led them down the road.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Nay, thank you, we had a pretty nice trip’, replied Feararin. ‘We have travelled lightly, as we did as a young couple.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘We are celebrating our fiftieth anniversary by visiting all of our friends’, said Glóin, taking his wife’s hand. ‘Our children are grown up, we deserve some time alone…’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hearing this, Lobelia sighed and put her hands in her dress’ pockets. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Congratulations on such a well-adjusted marriage’, she said plainly. All three of them went down the road. Feararin and Glóin exchanged pondering looks. Lobelia appeared suddenly sad to them. ‘If you want to learn about Bilbo’s whereabouts… I cannot tell you much, really. He’s extremely secretive with pretty much everyone here. He has his own ways… He’s really very peculiar, one might say.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lobelia continued, with her voice steady. She was walking rather fast, and Glóin, who got more lazy with age, regretted they were leading their ponies instead of riding them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘He only socializes with the Gamgees, over here’, she threw a gesture in a certain direction. ‘The Gamgees are excellent gardeners, but why does Bilbo value them over my company, this remains a mystery. And I am his closest family!... Anyway, he’s gone off somewhere, has not notified anyone, as it is usually his custom, left no note and he might be away for months, as he’s once done. I bet you have heard about his biggest adventure? Folks all over the area speculate about the gold he brought home!’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Feararin and Glóin knew Bilbo’s brought something much more valuable than that, but kept silent, not wanting to intervene with Lobelia’s narrative. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘And did he ask for my advice before going off on an adventure? No, he didn’t. He never does. He’s the most stubborn hobbit I’ve known and I tell you, I know everybody. I’ve even been visiting the Tooks, mind you.’ She threw them a glance that seemed to communicate that if they couldn’t gather the significance of her visiting the Tooks, then they must indeed be foreign. They nodded anyway. ‘So, it should not surprise you that he produced an heir. Without asking me!’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She made a rhetorical pause, waiting for them to react, but they had no idea how they should react. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘I have not heard that Bilbo had a child, really. I would not… expect that’, Glóin uttered, when the silence occurred too prolonged to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Me neither’, Feararin added quickly. She found comfort holding Glóin’s hand, as they walked side by side. The green fields spreading both sides from the road made her feel relaxed and composed. She was glad they arrived in this season: Hobbiton was not a place she would gladly live in, but it was definitely nice to stay here for a while. She enjoyed hearing the stream’s flushing and hot sunrays, and was willing to explore the area. Her first encounter with a hobbit was enjoyable, too, though she would prefer Lobelia to be less chaotic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glóin sighed. ‘I really wished Bilbo had informed us.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Yes, I thought you were friends…’ said Feararin. Lobelia glanced at them again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Friends… Well… Bilbo… is peculiar, as I told you… He has few friends… And he hardly informs anyone about anything, and even then he never listens to any advice…’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Had we known Bilbo had a child, we’d have brought toys…’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Toys?!’ Lobelia laughed. ‘Oh noo, he needs no toys… The lad is in his tweens, and childish as he is, he doesn’t play with toys anymore, but is fond of reading, long walks and mischief in general. He’s robbed farmer Maggot of his good mushrooms, as I am told! This boy is damage personified, I tell you!’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Adoption’, thought Glóin, ‘sounds much more like Bilbo, yet totally not like him. What happened to him??’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘We’ll be happy to get to know him’, said Feararin. They were now going by the road between two small hillocks, and the ponies started to stray for the smell of fresh grass. More hobbits could be seen near the entrances to their doors. They appeared to be resting, sitting on the benches by their doors, chatting by the fences, training their dogs, feeding the cats and listening to the birds. Many of them looked at the strange couple, and greeted Lobelia with kind words. Lobelia answered each and every one, and the Dwarves got involved in more than one friendly chat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘This Bilbo’, said an elderly hobbit, who was smoking a pipe near the bridge over a rivulet, ‘always the same. Always the same, I am telling you, if you take my meaning, as if he never grew up out of his tweens… Queer, a queer hobbit is he, I tell you, and he’s very low on hobbit sense… once he left a family gathering without finishing his supper, I tell you! And later on...’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Feararin seemed to thoroughly enjoy this ethnographic trip, but Glóin, having his years and his almost century-old habits, wanted to have supper and rest. He definitely was not in his tweens anymore, whatever they meant. Not listening to the elderly hobbit, a good acquaintance of Lobelia, as it seemed, but nodding nevertheless, he observed the colorful landscape. The hobbits started to return to their holes, hardly anyone remained outside. The dogs stopped barking, the cats were sneaking between one bush and another. Glóin felt sleepy and wished Lobelia gave them the tea she promised. He was about to ask for it, when suddenly he saw a familiar shape, striding characteristically to the bridge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Bilbo!’, he exclaimed. It was Bilbo himself, accompanied by a smaller hobbit. Glóin sighed with relief. The elderly hobbit, Lobelia and Feararin turned in their direction. ‘Bilbo, come here, old chap!’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Glóin! oh my Gandalf, Glóin!’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo sped to meet him, much quicker than it could be expected from a hobbit of his age. They embraced, exchanged formulas of greetings and laughed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lobelia observed all of this with a sad expression. She knew Bilbo hadn’t even observed her. She felt not needed. Not wanting to disturb anyone with her presence, she backed, said her goodbye to the neighbour and went home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Seems you hadn’t made friends today, my dear’, she thought to herself, entering her own home in which her husband and son had already dosed off. She sat in an empty living room. She didn’t feel like reading. She didn’t feel like having another piece of cake. She didn’t feel like anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She imagined Frodo being introduced to Bilbo’s friends, all four going back to Bag End, eating a very cheerful meal, chatting and singing until the night was old, and then enjoying a wonderful day together. And she was to sit at home, minding the kitchen and the order, with no hope for an adventure, with no hope for change. How she envied Bilbo for being able to find foreign friends whenever he moved. How she envied the Dwarves for such a happy marriage, for having each other to travel with. She couldn’t even ask Otho out for a walk, because he was too lazy to make a step outside his own parcel of land. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Feeling so lonely and deserted, she almost burst to tears. She hadn’t felt the urge to do something drastic since Bilbo’s disappearance so many years ago. Something must change! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She went to bed with a strong resolution to go meet the Dwarves tomorrow. With them around Bilbo and Frodo would have to pretend to be civil towards her - at the least. All she wanted was some friendly chat about something more than supper. She will go there tomorrow, and will ask about foreign lands, and will learn at least one Dwarvish word. Yes, she will. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And maybe, one day - she almost dreamt when this thought appeared in her mind - maybe one day Gandalf will come to bring her on her own adventure, too.</span>
</p>
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